A longtime, and dear friend recently chose to share her own very personal story.
I share it here with her permission.
Though I am certain she would not object, I have chosen to omit her name.
The reader should be aware that Ethan is her and her husband’s young boy, and firstborn.
Used With Permission
This is private, but I am going to put it out there to put a face on an issue for some of my friends.
On Tuesday, I lost two great sources of hope for the future. One was the election, but the other was more personal. Midday, before the polls ever closed, and right as I was returning one turf to Headquarters to pick up another, I got a phone call that brought me to my knees.
I was pregnant, ya’ll. I was 11 weeks on Election Day, and it had been a dicey start, but we thought we had made it. We were already discussing adorable ways to make it FB official. We anxiously awaited the results of this genetic test that would tell us the sex, so we could hopefully rest a bit easier if it was a girl (because of the pattern of kidney disease in my family).
The doc gently informed me that it was a little boy, and he had trisomy 18. Either I would naturally miscarry, or I would watch my baby die a slow and painful death over the course of a few days, months, or maybe a year. My worst nightmare was coming true, and I was terrified that I would Read the rest of this entry »